5. aurora

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{tw// brief anxiety}

When the boys finish salting and burning a grave in Aurora, Colorado, the last thing Dean was expecting was for Castiel to be asking him to what seems like a date. Castiel asks Dean if he would like to visit Denver and find "something to do." Dean, now sure that Sam is suspicious of his and Castiel's closeness, nonchalantly declines the offer.

"Sorry, Cas, I'm just tired after this hunt. Getting flung down a flight of steps by a pissed-off spirit really takes a toll on you." He chuckles and makes his way back to the impala.

"Hey, you were the one who provoked it saying, and I quote, 'come on what are you gonna do, push me down the steps?'" Sam jabs at his brother earning a shove in response. "Anyway, I booked two rooms at the hotel a few miles back. I'd like a shower and I'm sure you two would uh-" He searches his brain for a subtle remark that will tell the two that he has an inkling about what's going on between them. "like to rest or something."

Dean cringes inwardly. "Yeah, that's ideal." He plops into the driver's seat and starts up the car. The air between the three passengers feels thick and heavy for the duration of the drive to the hotel and when they arrive, Dean can't get out of the car fast enough. He grabs their bags from the trunk and closes it with unnecessary force.

In his head, his anxiety is screaming at him to run and hide. he's embarrassed and the red that quickly covers his face and neck burns his skin and forces tears to the back of his eyes. He can't bring himself to look at Sam, and he doesn't know why. He knows that really it shouldn't matter if Sam knows, but something in his mind is on high alert, sounding every bell and whistle in his head and lighting off every flashing light. His body stiffens, eyes fixed straight ahead at the entrance of the hotel. The breath in his chest halts completely and he feels his fingers twitching on their own accord.

Every call of his name sounds so far away, and the pressure on his shoulder, which he recognizes to be his brother's hand feels as though it's separated by fifteen layers of clothing instead of just the two he has on. His vision starts to blur as the tightening grip of anxiety and panic slithers up his spine.

Another hand on his other shoulder causes his neck to snap in the direction of its owner. Castiel's face is softened with concern for the oldest Winchester.

"Dean, can you hear me?" Castiel's voice is fuzzy and far away, but Dean understands enough of the question to be able to force a small nod and override a considerable amount of the panic that is now evicting his body. Dean feels the familiar presence of Castiel's grace flowing through him, this time not laced with lust or pleasure, but with care and calm. With the help of the angelic energy flowing through him, Dean is able to regulate and come back to the present moment.

"I think you had a panic attack, Dean, let's get you inside so you can get some rest," Sam says, taking his and his brother's bags and leading the way into the hotel. While Sam handles check-in, Dean drops himself into a barely comfortable chair in the corner of the lobby.

"Dean, are you alright?" Cas' voice is lowered as not to startle him. He crouches beside Dean, resting a hand on the man's forearm. No grace flows through the touch as Castiel rubs his thumb back and forth in a comforting manner.

"I think so, I'm just, I think that Sam knows, and I'm not ready for him to know, I freaked out for a second, but I'm okay now I think, thank you for stepping in with your grace, I don't know what happened," Dean rambles but Castiel is fine-tuned on every word. Cas hums in understanding and lets a comfortable silence fall between them. When Sam joins them with keycards for their respective rooms, Castiel takes the one for Dean and his' room.

"Dean, are you sure you don't want to share a room? I mean what just happened outside, what if it happens again?" Sam asks, genuine concern filling the question.

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